Forest Walk
The day went on. The members were already concerned with other matters, putting what they experienced that afternoon to the side. Sassilia always came back, despite what happened to her. She usually came back a few hours later, or the next day. But the day turned to days. Those turned to weeks. The members started to worry. They were missing a key part of their team. The weeks turned to a month. Money started to get low. The members worry increased. Soon none of them could fully concentrate on their tasks, and with Sassilia gone, the missions became tougher. The month turned into months. He had enough. He needed the money back, he needed the work to be easier, and he needed his companion back. He hasn’t been able to pull up information on Caretaker. Everything about him seemed more under the radar than he was. The only information he could dig up on Caretaker was that he ran an orphanage deep into the forest of the outskirts of the town. An odd place to run an orphanage, he thought. Demvare looks to the entrance of the forest. He’s been through here multiple times, but never fully aware of his surroundings to make a mental map. He has to rely on his memory to get him through. The night grows darker as the midnight hour starts to come to life. He can feel his instincts kick in. He’d blend in perfectly to the atmosphere. The forest gets thicker the more he travels on. Midnight skin against midnight sky. Candlelight hair blending with the shining pale stars. Claws out like thorns waiting to pierce the leg of the next traveler. After an hours walk through the forest, he come out of the other end. A few yards away, a stone cottage rests there, flowers and vines running near it. The cottage looks like something from a grandeur fairytale. The sign on the door is faded. He could almost read ‘Erar’. He knocks on the door. “Mr. Erar? Are you here?” No response. “Mr. Erar?” The door creaks open. The lights are dim inside. A flash of white meets his eyes before Erar steps in his sight. “Oh, Mr. Demvare.” “Caretaker.” He grimaced. “Here on personal business, I assume.” “You'd be right. I assume you know who I’m here for?” “She’s not home right now.” “Liar.” He sigh, opening the door more. “Correct. She's s up in her room, sleeping.” “Is she really?” He surveys the room. The door opens to a large room that holds the kitchen on the side and a set of stairs near the other wall. A ways in front of him is an open doorway to a living room. “Yes, she is.” Caretaker shuts the door, fixing his gloves. “She’s been content here, welcoming travelers or visitors to the abode.” “A hometaker, eh?” “Indeed.” Demvare sits on the table. “Mind telling me what that locket’s about?” “I do mind.” “Mind telling me what your plan with her is?” “I do mind.” “Mind telling me who her real parents are?” Caretaker stops. An odd smirk comes to his face. “Dead. She's an orphan.” “I’m aware.” He fiddles with his claws. “You don’t have any of her genetics and I refuse to believe her kind soul was birthed from you.” “Her parents were important and that’s all that matters.” “Her parents were royalty. I’ve seen inside her locket. Her father was in kingly robes and her mother in a queen's dress.” “She's a princess.” “Also aware.” Caretaker sighs out. “Just know that despite me training her to the perfect villainess, I raised her after her parents died. I hold some regard for her. I do care for her. That’s why I’m her Caretaker.” “You’re despicable.” He spits out vile. “Correct.” He chuckles. Demvare suddenly grabs onto the stairway rails and launches himself up the stairs. “Stop! Now!” He starts to follow afterwards. He busts open the shut door. I'm asleep on a fancy bed, under the large purple covers. He unblankets me and hold me in his arms as he jumps back down the stairs. My nightgown flutters in the air. Caretaker stands in front of the door. “Put her down. Now.” “Move.” “Put her down and I will.” He holds to me tighter, a wild look in his eyes. “Move, or I’ll tear you apart myself.” Caretaker chuckles. He steps to the side. “I want to see you again, monster boy. Try not to die while you’re out. And make sure she doesn’t die either.” His eyes wander to my locket. “She’s not done yet.” “You’re horrendously creepy.” “I may be, but at least I’m not a demon.” Demvare growls, barreling out the door and running through the forest. ~ I awaken inside my bed at the Clubhouse. I blink a few times, then wipe my eyes. Demvare comes inside the room. “That was an awful dream you were having.” “Dream…?” He puts his fingers on her forehead, laying her back down. “Sleep. You need to rest up for your next mission.” I nod, pulling the blankets back over me, and close my eyes. He stares down at me, then to my locket. “That gives you too much trouble. You shouldn’t always have it on.” He hesitantly puts his hands on the chain, and lifts it over my snowy locks. It slips off without an issue. He eyes it carefully, then sets it on my dresser. “Sleep well for once, Sass.” He curls up his hands, retracting his claws. “For the both of us.” “Mr. Demvare?” He turns around. “Oh. Webb.” “Does she need any-" “No. She’s fine.” He nods. “Just want to make sure.” He exits out the room again. Demvare stares at the locket on the dresser again. He could do it. He could take the locket and study it. He could learn all its secrets, but it could hurt her. It was a gamble. He stops before grabbing it. A gamble. A real gamble is living your life being stalked by some psychotic caretaker. A real gamble is laughing with friends and loving them while praying the locket doesn’t activate and hurt people. A real gamble is waking up in the morning and hoping you can be yourself that day. Sassilia's entire being a truthful, dangerous gamble.